Till Death Do Us Part
by DragonWyrd
Summary: This is the third and last in the trilogy regarding my warden Reagan Cousland and her husband King Alistair.


_**Till Death Do Us Part**_

"_So much has happened since the battle of Ostagar, thirty years ago today_," Alistair thought, looking down at his sleeping wife. Running his finger lightly over the scar that crossed over his right eye, down to his lip, he grinned to himself at how, after he had received it during the battle with the Mother, Reagan told him how dashing it made him look. Shifting a bit on his side, propping himself up, his eyes grow dim as she begins twitching and whimpering softly in her sleep. He runs his hand softly over the skin of her arm and presses a kiss lightly to her temple, whispering soothing words into her ear and trying to calm the nightmares that plagued her.

"_They've been getting worse, her nightmares. She shouldn't be the one to go first, Maker no! I've had the taint longer, it should be me, not her!_" he pleads mentally, knowing that there wouldn't be any answer this time. Both of them knew, from the time that they joined, that this would happen at some point, but he wasn't ready yet.

"_I feel as though my life with her is just beginning. I'm not ready to let go of her just yet,_" he cries within his mind, feeling tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. She calms within his arms, and he pulls her closer, staring at her face which still barely shows any sign of age. He leans down to kiss the light laugh wrinkles at the corner of her eye. Watching her, he thinks back to the day they first met.

~oOo~

"_And here I was going to name one of my children after you… the grumpy one," a twenty-something Alistair retorts to the mage in front of him, as he catches the shadow of movement approaching the two of them. Paying no attention to what the man said afterward, he turns to face the newcomer, his heart in his chest as he sees the slip of a woman with the longest, curliest hair he'd ever seen, the shining chestnut locks teasing the small of her back. The eyes watching him were of the purest blue-green he'd ever seen within a heart shaped, and heart-stopping face, and shimmering with a sadness partnered with a steel resolve that made him just want to reach out and pull her to him._

"I never believed in love at first sight till now and I don't even know her name," _he thinks to himself, mentally clearing his throat as he approaches her, disregarding the mage as he exits, feeling as if it's only the two of them alone in the world. Mentally shaking his head, he looks down at the vision that is already tugging at his heart-strings, and quirks a grin at her._

"_You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together," he begins, hoping his humor doesn't fall flat and screw up any chances he has with this vision, his heart trembling mightily in his chest._

"_I know exactly what you mean," she replies, the sadness in her eyes lifting a bit as she returns his grin with one of her own._

"_It's like a party, we can all stand in a circle and hold hands. That'll give the darkspawn something to think about," he continues, mentally releasing the breath he'd been holding, thinking her response was a good omen._

_Her laughter rings out like a bell, causing his heart to plop in front of her feet, as he's thinking incredulously to himself, "_She likes my jokes! "

"_If that's all it takes, maybe this Grey Warden business won't be so bad after all," she retorts, her eyes sparkling like diamonds, reminding him of how the waters of Lake Calenhad looked when the sun hit it just right._

"_Wait, you're not a mage, are you?" he asks, thinking his luck could __**not**__ be this good, that there has to be a catch here somewhere._

"_Do I look like I'm wearing robes or carrying a staff?" she chuckles, fingering the bow and quiver strapped to her back._

"_You never know, those mages can sneak right up on you," he laughs at her response._

_The full bodied laughter that came next from her, the bright smile that curved her lips, was enough to make him pray to the Maker that if no one else survived the Joining, at least she would. Already thoughts of her not making it turned his world a horrid grey._

"_You must be Alistair. I'm Reagan Cousland and very pleased to meet you," she smiled, that wondrous curve of her lips that was aimed at him making him feel as though he'd just received the greatest gift anyone could ever be given, and extended her hand out to him._

"_Cousland? As in related to the teyrn of Highever?" Alistair asks, shock ringing in his voice, and his heart plummets a bit, realizing that she's just one step away from the crown and would never throw herself in with a bastard, even if he was the son of King Maric._

"_The teyrn, he is… was… my father. The Couslands hold Highever no more, thanks to the traitorous deeds of Arl Howe. He… he slaughtered my family. Duncan was able to get me out in time, but my mother decided to stay back and fight off any would-be followers to give us a chance to escape. My father was already dying before my eyes. My brother had already left for here… and I don't relish the thought of telling him what happened to our parents or… or to his wife and son…" she replied softly, her body seeming to shrink into itself as she stared at the stones beneath her feet, hiccupping back a sob._

"_I… I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say…" he trails off, cursing himself for all kinds of a fool for having brought that subject up. Nervously, he takes a step closer and awkwardly wraps his arms around her, which then caused the dam of tears she'd been holding back to break free._

"_I needed that more than you'll ever know. Sorry for leaking all over you as we don't want your armor to rust," she giggles waterily, lightly wiping the moisture of her tears from his splintmail a while later._

"_No harm done," he smiles slightly, berating himself for enjoying the feel of her so close while she was mourning the loss of her family._

"_You sure know how to make a woman feel safe and secure in your arms," she smiles a bit shyly as she looks up at him, her cheeks pinkening softly._

"_I ahh… errrr…" he starts off, unable to think of anything good to say," Well umm… why don't we go and grab something hot to eat before Duncan has us prepare for the ceremony?"_

"We can curl up by the fire and you can lean on me too if you want," _he thinks to himself as they make their way out of the old temple toward the stewpot where Duncan had camped._

_Even now, even with the events of the next day, the rest of the evening was a blur as she had actually done as he'd hoped for, the two of them laughing and joking with each other, her leaning her shoulder against his, as they ate their last meal prior to the preparations that would signal the beginning of their trials together._

~oOo~

"What has you looking as though you're leagues away?" the soft voice of her, his Reagan, draws him from his thoughts and he looks down at her, still amazed that she fell in love with him, that she married him, that she had his children, and that she is still here beside him years later. The thought that she will soon be out of reach sobers him and again he sighs inwardly before leaning down to kiss her softly.

"I was just remembering the day we first met. I fell in love with you that day, you know. You laughed at my jokes, actually listened to me, and made me feel on top of the world," he smiles down at her.

Smiling in return, she reaches up to thread her fingers through his graying hair, tracing her thumb lightly over the shell of his ear, as she curls up closer to his warmth. Pressing her cheek against his, she inhales deeply, drawing in the scent that is distinctly Alistair, and letting it seep through her entire being. As she pulls away to look at him, she kisses his cheek lightly.

"Are the dreams coming to you too, love? You've had a few nightmares yourself these past few weeks," her eyes grow sad as she watches him.

"No, though I wish I were. Yours are getting worse and fast. You started having them what, a year ago? But then maybe one a week or every two weeks. These last couple of months they've been nightly, sometimes more than one a night it seems…" he trails off, watching her.

Tears pooling in her eyes, she nods and grips him tight, not wanting to let go.

"I'm not ready yet. I don't want to leave you, or the children, even if they are grown up and able to get on without me. But… if you're not having the same nightmares, what has been causing yours?"

"The thought of losing you, my dear, is what is causing them. The thought of waking up with you no longer beside me chills my blood to no end. A day without your smile to brighten it seems so dark and lifeless," he whispers as he watches her, his fingers tracing unconscious patterns on her arm.

"That day may come sooner than either of us had thought. I… I think it's time I left for Orzammar, my heart. The nightmares are getting worse and their calls, they're getting stronger. The compulsion to go is becoming too strong to ignore," she responds hoarsely, weeping against his bare shoulder as he tugs her onto him, holding her tightly.

"No. By the Maker no, please no," his body shudders beneath hers as he holds back his grief, rubbing his hands lightly up and down her back as she releases the last of her tears onto his skin.

"I already sent letters out to our children, and to my brother, asking them to come for a visit. They need to be told," she whispers against his shoulder. "Once I have everything in order, I think I'll be leaving within the week, two at the most."

Alistair stares at the ceiling, his eyes blurry, as he tries to imagine a life without the woman beside him, and fails. His mind goes blank as he feels her soft lips tracing kisses along his neck then over his jaw, stopping to hover over his own.

"I don't know how many more times I'll have a chance to be with you, my love, so let's take every moment we can, please?" she asks, her heart in her eyes.

Without a word, he fastens his lips to hers and drags them both beneath the covers, showing her with his body, as he can't with words, how much she means to him.

~oOo~

If anyone had poked their head into the palace's library, they would have thought the scene set before them was a cozy one. Alistair and Reagan were curled up against each other on one of the sofas near the fire, her head on his chest and her feet tucked up beneath her skirt, their son Bryce and his wife Marisa along with their daughter Eleanor and her husband Ian on the other couch, with their surprise child, Alain, who had been born five years after the twins, and his wife Sascha on the carpet between. Unfortunately, it was anything but that, as Alistair and Reagan explained to their children what was happening.

"So… you're saying that you're heading to the Deep Roads to die?" Bryce asked quietly, his gaze focused on his mother.

Stopping with his hand on the door, Fergus looked between his sister, Alistair, and their children, his eyes closing momentarily in grief before he steeled himself and took a seat next to Reagan, his gaze landing worriedly on her and her husband.

"Yes. I wish I didn't have to, but unfortunately this is the lot in life for any Grey Warden. After so long, it's a compulsion, a need, to go where the darkspawn are most prevalent, and take as many out as you can before you can no longer go on. Once someone becomes a Grey Warden, they have around thirty years of life left, give or take, before they die. Mine happens to be now," she responds quietly, reaching out to grab her brother's hand in hers, the look between them saying much more than words ever could of the loss the both of them would feel when she died.

"I wish you'd never become a Grey Warden then," Alain muttered, staring at the carpet beneath him.

"I was angry about it at first, as my father said that it was my duty, and Couslands always do their duty, but had I not joined I would never have met your father. Had I never met your father, I'd never have been blessed with you. If I had not joined… had I refused… I would be among those who were killed when Rendon Howe betrayed our family in his need to become something more, as he said with his last breath as I killed him. So please, don't wish me away from my calling. It's been a blessing where at first I thought it nothing but a curse," she chides her son gently.

"I understand, I just don't want you to go yet…" Alain sighs, turning his gaze up to look at his mother.

"And I will be going with her," Alistair states, looking between those gathered.

"Oh, Alistair, no… your time hasn't come yet," Reagan looks up at him with soft and weary eyes.

"I've been thinking about this since we talked the other morning. I can't imagine a life without you. I don't _want_ a life without you. I've been by your side through almost every darkspawn battle you've had to fight and I don't plan on you going through this last one on your own. What kind of a rock and shield would I be to you then, hmm?" he replies, tilting her chin up to his so he can press a soft kiss to her lips.

"Bryce is already Prince Regent and has a better grasp of what needs to be done for Ferelden than I ever had when I took over the throne. Eleanor and her husband have taken up residence at the Vigil and will become the new Arl and Arlessa when Varel steps down, and our youngest has already been named your brother's heir for Highever. Our family is taken care of love, and now it's time for me to take care of you," he continues, tracing a finger lightly over her cheek.

Looking over at Bryce, Alistair sighs softly and shakes his head with a small smile, "I hate to do this to you, but you'll have to make the announcement of our leaving. Your mother can't wait much longer so for us to call a Landsmeet for me to declare this change in leadership is out of the question. We will be leaving tomorrow for Orzammar."

Nodding solemnly, Bryce sighs, rubbing the palms of his hands against his eyes, his wife rubbing his back as she looks at her in-laws.

"_Better people have I never known. So down to earth and full of love between themselves and for their family, and with arms so warm and welcoming to the rest of us who had the fortune of marrying into their line. They will be sorely missed,_" Marisa thinks to herself, her heart heavy not so much over the burden on her husband, but over the grief that they and her siblings by marriage will feel when these two were gone.

As the group slowly stood, one by one, Fergus wraps his arms around Reagan, holding her tight.

"I'll miss you, Reagan. You've made me so proud over the years, seeing your strength and courage and the will to do what's right even if it's not the easiest thing to do. I know mother and father would be proud," he whispers in her ear, before releasing her to the hugs and tears of the rest of the family.

~oOo~

"Reminds me of when we first started out trying to save the land from the Blight," Reagan says, leaning back against her bedroll in front of the fire, watching Alistair try to cook in the pot swinging over the open flame of the pit, feeling more in peace than she had in months, even though she knows she's going to her death.

"Yes, but with a few major changes. We don't have that bitch Morrigan off in her little corner muttering spells, or Sten watching us with his creepy Qunari eyes, or Oghren off somewhere either belching out some dwarven drinking song or snoring so loud anything within a hundred leagues would know where we are," he chuckles, stirring the supposed lamb and pea stew concoction that resided within the cook pot.

Watching him crouched over their dinner, her mind flashes back to a certain time after they had left Goldanna's in Denerim, when he finally got up the nerve to tell her he loved her and wanted her to be his first, and hopefully only.

~oOo~

"_Can we talk for a moment?" Alistair asks, wiping his palms along the outsides of his armored thighs._

"_You look nervous. Are you sweating? Is something wrong?" Reagan looks at him, her gaze full of concern as she knows the encounter with his sister was anything but the happy reunion he had hoped for._

"_Nervous? Me? No… well yes. Here's the thing. Being near you makes me crazy. I feel like my head's about to explode!" Alistair paces back and forth, his eyes darting up at her, watching how the firelight sparkles within her own eyes._

"_Gee, thanks a lot," she laughs, folding her arms over her chest as she watches him._

"_I don't mean it like that! Ugh, let me start over. Look, maybe I'm rushing this too fast, I don't know, but I do know how I feel about you. I wanted to wait for the perfect time, the perfect place, but when will it be perfect? If it were, we never would have met. We just sort of… bumped into each other, well wait, Duncan sent you after me but still… the first time I saw you, all I could think of was how beautiful you were and how I wanted to find a way to wipe the sadness from your eyes. I think I fell in love with you that night, and every night since it has just grown stronger. I want to spend the night with you, here in the camp. You know I've never done this before but I wanted to be with you before… well before…" he trails off, looking at her, his heart in his eyes and his hands trembling at his sides._

"_Shhh, I know what you mean," she replies, resting her fingers lightly on his lips in a shushing motion. "I know exactly what you mean. I've never been with anyone either, and I don't want to be with anyone but you. You're the man who holds my heart. I love you, Alistair."_

_He tilts her chin up with shaking fingers, his lips finding hers as if they were a beacon of light guiding his way home, as he kisses her. The kiss felt as if it was their first, just as sweet and tender, but this time with the force of their feelings behind it. As he pulls back, he takes her hand in his and leads her back to her tent, far away from the others, stealing glances at her and squeezing her fingers gently, as if trying to make sure that what was happening was real, not some sort of dream._

~oOo~

Grinning to herself at the memory of that night, how awkward yet sweet everything was, and how attentive he was to her, as well as how they fumbled through everything, she sighs happily. Her grin turns a bit wicked as she watches him tend to the congealed mess he's cooking.

"Care to join me in my tent?" she calls out, laughing at his startled look, then feeling her heart flutter as it's replaced by heat in his eyes.

"Whatever my heart wishes, she shall receive," he growls, pouncing on her playfully. Her joyous laughter echoes throughout the small clearing as he half carries, half drags her to their tent.

Noses bumping and minor curses ensue as they try to disrobe within the small confines of the tent, though Reagan giggles during the entire process.

"I don't remember these things being so blasted small. Seemed easier back then to maneuver in the tents," Alistair grumps as he falls over while trying to tug off a piece of his armor.

"Well, what do we have here? Two Grey Wardens having a little bit of fun, hmmm?" they hear, before the face of a weathered blonde haired elf pokes through the entrance to their tent.

"Oh for Andraste's sake, Zevran! Couldn't you have knocked first or something?" Alistair groans, resting his head in his hands.

Shaking her head and laughing, Reagan quickly turns and pulls a shirt out of their pack, tugging it over her head before realizing it's one of Alistair's as it billows around her.

"My, my, what a nice bosom you have there, my dear Reagan. Too bad I never got to sample it," Zevran says cheekily, his focus more on Alistair than her.

"Whoa, whoa! You didn't just go there, did you? That's _my_ wife's bosom you're staring at, might I remind you," Alistair growls at Zevran.

Throwing his hands up in the air and laughing, Zevran sits at the entrance of the tent and looks between his two friends.

"Don't worry, Alistair, they're safe from me. What _are_ you two doing out here, anyway? Don't you have a country to run?" His gaze is curious but a bit apprehensive, his stomach souring as he sees the look the two give him.

"Both of you, at the same time? Maker's mercy! I'm so sorry my friends," he says quietly.

"No, just me. Alistair won't let me go on my own even though it's not his time yet. The pull has become too strong for me to ignore any longer, Zev," Reagan says softly, reaching out to lay a gentle hand on her friend's knee.

"Well then, let me at least keep you company on your journey to Orzammar, yes? While I will not go any further, I would like to be there for you for this, if you don't mind?" Zevran lays his hand lightly on top of Reagan's as he looks to her, then to Alistair.

"I wouldn't mind, Zev. What do you think, love?" Reagan turns to look at Alistair.

"As long as he keeps his head out of our tent when we're trying to have some alone time, I don't mind," he smiles, laughing as he sees the mischievous grin curving the elf's lips.

"I still have those herbs if you wish to try them, Alistair, as well as some suggestions for volume," he teases back.

After Zevran removed himself from their tent to set up his own, Reagan and Alistair soon learned that the mood had not been lost, and Zevran more than likely realized that his suggestions were no longer needed.

~oOo~

"Well, here we are my friends. The gates of Orzammar!" Zevran announces, turning around to look at Reagan and Alistair, trying to keep a happy face and failing.

"I'll miss you Zev," Reagan smiles sadly, reaching out to hug the elf.

"Surprisingly enough, same here," Alistair agrees, gripping Zevran's arm in a warrior's handshake.

"As I will miss the both of you, my dear Grey Wardens. Time to be off, though, before this gets too sappy for even my tastes!" he tries to joke before slipping off into the shadows, leaving both Reagan and Alistair to stare at the massive gates leading into the city beneath the stone.

"This is it," she whispers.

"Yes, this is it," he whispers back, hugging Reagan from behind, before they walk up to present themselves to the dwarf guarding the entrance.

~oOo~

"I'm sure many of you are wondering why I called this Landsmeet. I'm sure an even greater number of you are wondering why it was me who called it, instead of my father King Alistair," Bryce begins, a number of the crowd murmuring and nodding their heads in agreement.

"I have the sad task of letting you all know that my father has stepped down and I will be taking over the crown," he continues from upon the dais, his wife's hand gentle within his, feeling the strain and tension within the strength of his hand.

"_How much like his father he looks, just with his mother's dark hair and blue-green eyes,_" Teagan thinks to himself as he looks down upon Bryce from his spot on one of the balconies, already aware of the news to come as he had raced to Denerim as soon as he had received three frantic letters from each of the children. Sounds of people shifting, and a wave of distress breaks his thoughts as he continues to listen in.

"As you all are aware, both my father and my mother were the Grey Wardens who, with the strength of Ferelden and its allies at their side, helped to defeat the Blight almost thirty years ago. My mother was even given the title, the 'Hero of Ferelden' as she was the one who miraculously lived after she slew the Archdemon. It is because of their calling, because of their being Grey Wardens, that they are now on their way to Orzammar to find their last rest within the Deep Roads, clearing out as many darkspawn as possible before they themselves are taken to their final slumber. It is their last act of heroism to kill as many of those monsters as they can, hopefully lessening their number to an exponential degree, to not only assist the residents of Orzammar in keeping their city safe, but helping to keep us safe from darkspawn attacks. My parents left a letter to be read to you all…" he trails off, his voice cracking in his grief.

Marisa squeezes his hand gently and takes the parchment from her husband's hand, her eyes also filled with sorrow as she gazes out at the crowd.

"To the great people of Ferelden! We wish to let you know that it was an honor to fight by your side so many years ago. It was an even greater honor serving as your regents as a finer people to work with could never be found. While we might not have always seen eye to eye, there were always compromises to be had, laughter to be found, and love to be shared. It is with great sorrow that we step down, knowing that we will never see any of you again. Believe, though, that what we do is for our greater good, and the greater good of our children and grandchildren to come. It is also with great honor that we name Bryce and his wife as our successors to the throne, as we know that they will rule with both strength and compassion, as we hope we did for you. May the Maker bless you all, as it is in His path we now tread," she reads, her eyes welling up as she finally realizes the treasure they all had in her in-laws, and the trust they put in her and her husband. The crowd below her is silent, minus a few sniffles and wails here and there, then before she can wrap her mind around it, they begin filing into line, each of them kneeling before her and her husband and swearing fealty to them both.

"I propose that we have statues made of King Alistair and Queen Reagan to stand at the city gates, that all who enter here may remember the sacrifices they made for us during the Blight, and the strength and compassion they showed when helping the country rebuild after the war was over," Teagan calls out, after all oaths had been sworn. In response, the crowd cheers, and both Bryce and Marisa smile sadly up at Teagan, nodding to him.

"Then it shall be done!" Bryce exclaims, releasing his wife's hand to wrap his arm around his waist.

"I thank you all for coming here, and again apologize for the sadness my words have caused," he finishes, bowing to those assembled, before him and his wife make their way out of the room.

~oOo~

After presenting themselves to the king of Orzammar, an unknown as Lord Harrowmont had returned to the stone many years prior, and retrieving the passes that would allow them into the Deep Roads, they made their way somberly through the city, stopping at the guard post to the entrance of the mines. As the guard looked over their passes, then looked up at the two standing before him, his gaze is a bit incredulous.

"The king of Ferelden and his lady wife, the Hero of Ferelden. Your work down here is still known and recognized, not only within the city but the Deep Roads themselves. I don't envy you your journey, Wardens. May the Ancestors guide you," he says as he steps to the side, allowing them entrance.

"I'm still reminded of the first time we came down here. A red headed dwarf, drunk and full of spit and vinegar, approached us and proceeded to push his way into joining us. Who'd have thought he'd turn out to be such a fine friend, aye?" Reagan reminisces as they travel deeper within, her fingers entwined with her husband's.

"The smell rolling off of him when he came up to us is what I remember most," Alistair chuckles.

Reagan stops for a moment, pulling her hand from his as she hugs herself, staring at the rock above her. Her body becomes so… _still_ as if she were a living statue. Her eyes take in the construction of the now crumbling highways that had connected the thaigs throughout the Deep Roads. Alistair watches her, worry clouding his amber gaze.

"I thought I'd be afraid when I came down here, knowing what's to happen, but instead I'm at peace. I know that one of these days I'll be reunited with my family again, and that I'll be able to see Duncan. I have but one regret…" she trails off as she breaks her pose, looking up at Alistair.

"What's that, my love?" he asks gently.

"That you're giving up your life to stand here with me, to see this with me through the end. I had hoped that one of us would at least be able to see a grandchild born, and from what Bryce and Eleanor told me, each of them is now expecting," she sighs, taking his hand within hers again.

"I tried to picture my life without you in it. I tried to picture me staying, knowing you were going off for the last time. My world turned so grey and bleak that I knew I had no choice but to do this with you," he takes their entwined hands and presses a kiss to the back of hers.

"Even with that regret, I wouldn't want to be here without you. I wouldn't want to go this alone, and I'm glad I don't have to. You've always been there for me, always and forever," she smiles, leaning up to hug him tight, pressing her face into his neck, where his armor left it bare. His arms wrap around her to keep her there.

"We should continue on, love. I'm being pulled toward the Dead Trenches," she sighs, releasing herself from his grasp.

Perhaps it was their age, or perhaps it was them slowing down knowing that everything would soon be over with, but it took them twice the time to reach the trenches as it had the first time they had first traveled there.

"It's too bad Fergus never got over Oriana and Oren. At least the teyrnir will stay in the family with Alain being named heir," Reagan states out of the blue as the slowly approach the trenches.

At the mention of their youngest, their gazes turn soft as they look at each other.

~oOo~

"_Alistair! My love, where are you?" Reagan runs toward his office, practically lighter than air._

"_What, what's wrong? Your illness, is it something serious?" he barrels out of the room, catching her up into his arms as she leaps into them._

"_I'm not sick! You won't believe this! I'm pregnant again!" her eyes glow as she stares into her husband's face._

"_We're… we're going to have another child?" he stumbles as he carries her into his office, almost dropping her but catching himself at the last moment. His eyes are wide and filled with such awe._

"_Yes! Another miracle baby!" she laughs and he begins laughing as well, swinging her around the room._

"_How far along are you?" he asks, quickly kissing her as he awaits her answer._

"_Around three months or so according to Wynne. I'm so happy I almost shot out of the palace to scream the news at the top of my lungs, but I figured you should know first before I turn into a raving lunatic," she grins, wrapping her arms tight around his shoulders._

"_We need to share the news with Eamon and write letters to Teagan and Fergus. They should know as well. Oh wow… wow… I'm going to be a father again!" he crows, delight apparent in every feature of his face._

"_But, first, I'd like some alone time with you to celebrate," he grins, setting her down before reaching around to lock the office door._

_**Six months later…**_

"_Breathe love, breathe," Alistair encourages his wife, sitting behind her and letting her mangle his arms as she goes through the pains of birthing their child. This time he wasn't going to allow Wynne to shut him away from his wife during her time of need._

"_Breathe? I am breathing you pompous ass! Why don't __**you**__ breathe?" she spits out before screaming as another pain hits her. Resting his chin on her shoulder, his face a mask of pain as he wishes he could take hers away, he stiffens the muscles in his forearms for her to get a better grip, even as it hurt like hell where her fingernails were digging in._

"_Just one more push, dear, and you should be good. I see the head," Wynne croons to Reagan._

_Bearing down as the next contraction hit, her screams are enough to have Alistair shake his head and wonder if his hearing will survive._

"_You're doing good love, you're wonderful, you know that?" he whispers in her ear._

"_It's a boy! And quite healthy from the sounds of it!" Wynne laughs as she holds up the squalling baby._

_Laughing softly and collapsing back against Alistair, Reagan looks at the newborn with soft eyes._

"_Welcome to the world Alistair Alain Theirin," she whispers, then looks down at the bloodied and scratched up forearms of her husband._

"_Oh love, I'm so sorry! Wynne, when our son is washed up, could you see to Alistair's arms please? It looks like I shredded them good…" she frowns._

"_It's all right my love. Anything for you," he stops and stares as Wynne brings over a now clean Alain, resting him within Reagan's arms._

"_He's beautiful," Alistair whispers in awe, staring down at the little face of his newest child._

~oOo~

"I almost swore to myself I'd never touch you again after seeing what you actually had to go through, but I knew I could never stay away so that's one oath I never made," Alistair grins as he looks over at Reagan.

"I'd have found some way to lure you back to our bed had you actually taken that oath. A cold bed is a lonely bed, and I'd have had none of it," she laughs, shaking her head.

"Since I don't know how hectic things will be, as it's just the two of us this time, I just want you to know how blessed I am to have had you in my life. We've had a good life and raised our children well…" Reagan stops and chokes back a sob as she recognizes her last words as the ones her mother had spoken to her father just as Duncan was rushing her out of the servant's exit, ultimately saving her life.

"We've both been blessed. My life became brighter the moment you stepped into it. I'd like to think that the Maker had a hand in bringing us together," he squeezes her hand and they both stare off into the distance, looking at the masses of darkspawn that had once more made their home in Bownammar.

"Well, let's get to it," she whispers, "As this is the reason we came here. I love you Alistair, always and forever."

"And I love you, my heart," he replies softly, "Looks like they turned out the welcome mat for us."

As they slowly approached the bridge, Reagan palms her bow and reaches for an arrow in her quiver. Alistair readies his shield and unsheathes his sword. Letting out his fierce war cry as he rushes the line of darkspawn, knocking a good half dozen of them to the ground, Reagan begins picking away at them one by one. They're both breathing hard as they reach the middle of the bridge. Even though they kept themselves fit and never stopped training, age had taken a toll and they found that killing mass quantities of darkspawn was not as easy as it had been when they were much younger.

Finally nearing the edge of the bridge, they share a glance before looking at the small army of hurlocks and genlocks in front of them, backed up with a couple of ogres.

"At least these aren't armored this time," Alistair cracks, trying to lighten the mood, while knowing them surviving this battle were slim to none.

Laughing softly in agreement, Reagan nodded as she began letting her arrows fly, wanting to take down as many as she could. Not being as careful as she should have been, she slipped out behind the cover of boulders that she had been using as a shield, focused on a genlock sneaking up behind her husband, lodging an arrow solidly within the back of its head. Those few seconds were enough, as she was out in the open away from cover, numerous arrows impaling her and sending her to the ground with a cry and a gurgle as her life was swept away.

Dispatching the hurlock in front of him, Alistair heard her cry and rushed to where Reagan's prone body lay, picking her up gently within her arms and leaning back against the wall separating them from the edge of the abyss of the trenches below. Seeing that her eyes were sightless in death, he sinks down onto the ground and holds her close, tears streaming from his eyes as he closes hers with two gentle fingers. Looking up he sees the darkspawn slowly approaching them both before looking back down at the woman who had been his life for more than half of his own.

"Wait for me love, I'm right behind you," he whispers, burying his face in the crook of her neck, not even flinching when a hail of arrows took him down soon after.

~oOo~

A strange caravan of dwarves approached the city of Denerim, some with the marks of the casteless upon their faces, all marching somberly as they were given leave to head toward the palace. As none of them were able to leave each other alone during the past couple of months, since Alistair and Reagan left for Orzammar, the entire Theirin, Guerrin, and Cousland family stood at the gates to the royal quarter, watching those approaching.

"May I speak to whoever's in charge?" the lead dwarf asked, his face craggy with age and his beard nothing but grey, his armor marking him, and the others with him, as members of the Legion of the Dead.

"I am Bryce Theirin, king of Ferelden," Bryce replied as he approached the dwarf. "Might I ask what this is about?"

"I am Kargol. I fought beside your parents during the Blight. Myself and the Legion of the Dead remembers them well, King Bryce. When we were retaking the Dead Trenches as our own, we came across them and while we paid our last respects to them, we wished to pay them to you and your family as well. The Ancestors kept them together and the stone holds them within its warm embrace. The stone always remembers who fought for it."

With bowed heads and tears in their eyes, the family escorted the dwarves into the palace. Not much was said about the condition of Alistair and Reagan, other than the fact that after they had been defeated, the darkspawn had surprisingly left them alone. The rest of the evening was spent reminiscing over the past, the battles fought and won as Kargol remembered them, and the family reliving their moments with those now gone, but never forgotten.

~oOo~

_In front of the crackling fire within Eamon's great room, prior to setting out to Denerim for the Landsmeet, Alistair smiles down at Reagan, his hand reaching up to cup the side of her face, glad that they're alone, at least for a little while._

"_So you're really going to go through with it? You're going to make me king?" he asks the woman in front of him, leaning forward so their foreheads are touching._

"_You'll be a wonderful king, Alistair. You have this strong sense of doing what's right, and what will work for the betterment of the people. You're not for the power, but the change that such a position can bring, and only if that change will help, not hinder those who look to you for guidance. You have such a warm and giving nature and a compassion that shames even me at times. That's what I think will make you a wonderful king, a king people will appreciate on the throne," she smiles, resting her hand over his heart._

_His eyes close and his heart expands at her words. Looking at the truth portrayed in her speech, he starts to believe that he actually can be a good leader. Picking up her hand from where it rested, he kisses the palm lightly, letting her hand drop gently back down to her side, as he slowly lowers himself to one knee._

"_Then if I am to be king, I want a queen by my side who will fight with her entire being to see that justice and fairness abound, who also shares my compassion for others, and has a warm and giving nature all her own. I want that queen to be the woman who has shared my battles with me, who has been there for me through my high and my low points, the woman who owns my heart and soul and is the other half of me. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and standing by my side for the rest of my life, however long that may last?"_

_Reagan stares down at him in shock, her eyes wide, and filled with a myriad of emotions, the strongest being love and the sense of completion. She sinks to her knees in front of him and braces the sides of his face with her hands, her eyes staring into his._

"_I will be by your side, forever and always. Our love has carried us this far, and I want to see where it will lead us. Yes, my dearest Alistair, I'll marry you! Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!"_

_Picking her up as he stands, he holds her tight, breathing in the scent of her hair, before setting her back down on the floor. Taking her hand, he slides a ring onto her finger, mithril adorned with rubies, then kisses her hand where the ring lay._

"_I never knew I could be so happy. You have no idea how much this means to me, my love…" Alistair whispers._

"_Just knowing we'll be going through life together makes this next part seem easier to bear. We'll have a good life, filled with laughter and love, some sorrow, but the good will outweigh the bad. I can feel it," Reagan says softly before launching herself into his arms again and laughing with all the joy she feels._


End file.
